Walls Are Out to Get Us
by lightofhislife
Summary: HBP era Harry Potter. Follows several other characters, the romance of Snape, etc. Not obscene, occasional use of language, Rated T. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
1. Boggart

Britta sipped from a green mug. The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and fresh bread and was full of pleasantly chaotic sounds. Knitting needles clicked together, forming a multicolored scarf on their own, alongside a quiet scratching of a coarse animated brush, scraping away at a pan full of soap and unidentifiable burn marks. Mrs. Weasley flipped through an old edition of Witch Weekly, the cover art depicting a winking Gilderoy Lockhart, announcing his final win of the Most Charming Smile award. She hummed quietly, tapping her fingers against a stray copy of The Standard Book of Spells [Grade 2] that was laying on the table.

Ginny was on the floor in the next room playing chess with Ron, who sounded determined to beat his little sister. Based upon the results of the last three games, his chances were grim. Hermione wore an expression of befuddlement, chewing the inside of her cheek tentatively and frowning slightly into her green-bound book, A Brief History of Wizard/Muggle Conflict. She seemed never able to sooth her voracious appetite for words exceeding 10 letters. Harry was near the fire, absently stroking Crookshanks and focused on Ginny's now apparent strategy for winning. The usual crashes and explosions rained down on them from the rooms above, from either Fred and George's experimental devices or the ghoul.

Mrs. Weasley smiled into the pages of the magazine, looking up for a moment. "The members of the Order should be arriving soon. When they're here, I want you _all _upstairs." Her emphasis on "all" was heightened by a glance at Harry, between worried and a you'd-best-not-try-to-stay variety of stern. Murmurs and "mhmm"s rose from each person, Britta only nodding, to acknowledge what she'd just said.

Molly glanced downward to an image of Cailean Griogair, a singer she was quite fond of, reading a few sentences before letting out a slight squeal and jumping, seeing Remus and Tonks' silent entrances out of the corner of her eye.

"You could knock!" But Mrs. Weasley's scowl morphed quickly into a smile, pulling both visitors into a stranglehold of a hug.

"How's everything, Molly?" Tonks said.

"Arthur's been swamped at work, but otherwise, well," Molly replied.

"More and more people are cursing muggle objects for more sinister purposes," Remus nodded knowingly.

"Well, sit down," Molly said, gesturing for the coffeepot to pour cups for both of them. Remus murmured thanks and sat in the chair generally used by Ginny. Tonks did the same, wrapping her hands around the mug to warm them, the warmth of the house greatly contrasting to the wind outside.

"What is the-" Tonks began, interrupted by a loud crack, Mrs. Weasley jumping again. Kingsley appears, covered in snow and shivering.

"Evening," he nodded. "Sorry for the fright, Molly."

Kingsley followed Molly's gesture, sitting down to the left of Britta, accepting the coffee with a smile. The rooms stayed quiet, but for Tonks and Lupin making occasional comments to one another and abrupt and awkward moments of small talk between Kingsley and Britta. Arthur knocked on the locked door, Molly unlocking it quietly, sitting down. He gives a weak smile and calls out "Good evening, Weasleys and assorted others."

Britta had been examining the contents of her mug, looking up and smiling. "Good evening, Mr. Weasley."

"Evening, Arthur."

"Evening."

"Hello, Mr. Wealsey," Hermione said from her position on the floor. Ginny and Ron didn't even look up from the game they'd just started until Mrs. Weasley screamed in horror.

They twins had just apparated into the room, each grabbing on of her shoulders, causing her to smack both in the back of the head. "YOU REALLY DON'T NEED TO APPARATE EVERYWHERE!"

"Right, mum," they chorused, not quite sincerely.

After yet another pop, Severus Snape appeared, apathetically and without greeting. He simply sat to the left of Britta. "Coffee, Severus?" Molly asked, more from politeness than expectance he would take it. "Please, Molly," he said without any indication of him having any desire for the coffee.

Britta stood, wandered to the window, opening it for her owl, Clancy. Arthur began speaking.

"Muggle eggbeaters have been used in a number of ghastly crimes of the late. FOURTEEN raids, Molly, FOURTEEN. The Arwn family seems to have disappeared; more instances of Imperiused wizards committing crimes than we've had in the past 16 years… It's a disaster…" he shook his head vigorously, refilling his mug.

The silence was only brief, interrupted by the appearance of Mad-Eye Moody

"Everyone here?" Moody asked gruffly as soon as he straightened himself.

"Mmh-," Molly grunted, "Kids, upstairs," she pointed. Hermione and Britta both moved grudgingly, comfortable where they were. Ron and Ginny lifted the chess set together, followed by Harry and Fred and George. Once she was certain that everyone had vacated that specific floor, she used the muffliato charm on the kitchen, keeping the twins from using their extendable ears to listen in on the meeting.

Upstairs, Ron and Hermione bicker about the usage of extendable ears for eavesdropping. Fred and George take one out, dropping it down the stairs, trying to listen to the meeting. Harry stands, waiting eagerly for their report on the meeting.

"Damnit…" Fred scowled.

"Muffliato charm…" murmured George, shaking his head.

"What will we do?" Molly asked, the worry permeating each word. Skittish as she was, she screeched when she heard the earth-shattering crash of a clumsy Slytherin friend falling out of the fireplace, knocking over the Christmas tree. After shattering most of the ornaments and snapping several branches, Sarah straightened herself, brushing soot from her overly Christmas-spirited sweater, complete with twinkling lights. Her hair generally had a blue highlight but was pigmented into a red and green coontail for the holiday. She stood, striding over to the table.

"Hello there, chaps. Merry Christmas!" she giggled, glancing down at Lupin in a way that made Tonk's hair grow red with fury. "How's everyone? Mrs. Weasley? Mr. Weasley? Kingsley? Tonks? Moody? Sevvie—rus? Remus?" She cocked an eyebrow at the last name.

"Bad timing," Lupin said dryly. He made a show of his aloofness to please Tonks.

Tonks smirked and stood. She walked over to the tree, waving her wand wordlessly, lifting the tree while also mending branches and arranging the glass shards back into ornaments. She tapped the angel with her wands, still smiling, and it began to glow a similar red to the color her hair had just been.

As Tonks walked to the table, Sarah complimented her pants in a smarmy manner. When Tonks sat down, she angled herself towards Lupin territorially.

Molly stood. "Sarah, we're in a meeting right now. As much as we appreciate your company, could you either go upstairs or leave, please?"

Sarah nodded and glided up the stairwell to find her friends.

Snape spoke as soon as she was out of sight. "What we are going to do is keep Potter here until start of term. And we can decide upon further action at a time where the danger is more… " His eyebrows rose. "…pertinent?"

"But we need to keep a watch on the boy," Moody growled, taking a swig of his flask. It may not have been Polyjuice potion but it certainly wasn't pumpkin juice.

"What, Alastor, do you expect we should do with his family- his aunt, uncle, and cousin?- in the event of an attack? Surely You-Know-Who will think that their loss would be devastating to Harry?" Lupin made a slight face, remembering James and Lily when speaking of family.

"Well, we hide 'em of course," Moody said. "Memory modifiers…"

"I don't really think memory modification will be necessary, Alastor," Tonks interrupted.

"Well, _Nymphadora,_ how else will they stay quiet?"

Harry stood unnoticed at the entrance of the room. "They'd pretend they never knew anything. In their home, 'magic' is practically an obscenity."

"-_Harry_," Molly began, irritated to the greatest extent she could be with Harry.

"Well, it's true," Harry said. "What would Voldemort want with the Dursleys?"

"They're your family, Harry, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn't aware of all circumstances surrounding that situation," Lupin said.

"Upstairs, Harry," Molly said gently. Her expression said she would hear no objections.

After the failure of the extendable ears, everyone had gone back to their initial activities.

"Knight to E4," Ginny smirked.

"Merlin's pants…" grumbled Ron. "Pawn to E2." Harry was working out what Ginny's strategy for the win was.

Hermione tenderly wrapped her fingers around Crookshanks's tail to pull it away from her book, as it was blocking the text. Britta was still staring at her mug tiredly. Sarah entered the room noisily, calling out a greeting to Ginny and Britta, both in her year. Britta looked up. "Hi, Sarah."

"Hmm, Sa," Ginny said, focusing on the game. The darkness outside neither lessened nor grown. The nimbuses were so thick, the sun couldn't be seen anyway. Sarah fell into the monotony. She sat on the floor near the game of chess, fidgeting obnoxiously through the whole of the next few games.

More than two hours later, Fred apparated in. "Dinner's done." He apparates out, presumably downstairs. Each of the group moved quickly down the stairs, starving for activity and Molly's cream pie. Arthur was spooning potatoes onto his plate with a chunk of roast beef. Snape sat, bored and apathetic, still holding the coffee cup.

"Imelda really does," Kingsley laughed heartily at a comment made by Tonks, Remus chuckling along.

Fred, George, and Bill sat on the floor with large portions of food. Fleur daintily giggled at their remarks. Ginny sat with her brothers, soon joined by Ron.

Sarah sat diagonal from Snape with her plate, at Lupin's left. Arthur sat at the head of the table shooting questions about muggles to Britta and Harry. Molly only sat once she was certain everyone had been served. "Stop pestering them, Arthur."

"It's ok, Mrs. Weasley, I don't mind."

"Yeah, it's fine, Mrs. Weasley," Harry agreed.

Once everyone had finished, the plates refilled immediately with slices of the much-anticipated cream pie.

"Why, for the love of all that is creamy and irresistible, would you not eat the pie?" Sarah exasperatedly raised her voice.

Snape scowled without response.

Tonks finished her pie and skimmed her finger across the top of Remus's, smearing it across his cheek, giggling, then cleaning it off with a kiss.

"So, what, then, is an iPod?" Arthur asked riveted. "I mean, I hear rumors they are used for defense, practically the size of a cauldron."

Britta and Harry both suppressed smiles. "Actually, sir, they are really only used to play prerecorded music."

"Right, they're about the size of a… well," Harry tried thinking of a way to describe it, giving up and indicating a size with his fingers.

Britta leaned down to pluck her bag off the floor, shuffling through the objects in it. She held up a rectangular device, showing him how to turn it on and letting him listen to "Glittering Cloud" by Imogen Heap. His face lit up with wonder.

In the next room, Hermione giggled at Ron's unawareness of the cream on his face. The many empty plates levitated out of the hands of the user and into the sink, beginning to clean themselves. "It was delicious, Molly, thank you," Kingsley said, touching Molly's shoulder briefly. "I've got to work another shift; sorry to eat and run." He apparated out, soon followed by Moody.

"Right, kids," Molly began, "to bed with you lot. Being Christmas Eve, we know Ginny's going to wake us all at five." The kids scattered, Snape and Lupin remaining in their seats, quietly talking. Molly led Sarah and Britta upstairs to the room that was once Charlie's, charming a second bed to appear to accommodate the two. "'Night, you two," she said closing the door.

Sarah claimed the duplicate bed, draping her cloak across the headboard. She noted the Chudley Cannons and Weird Sisters posters and smiled at the similarity it had to her friend Austin's room.

Britta pulled off black shoes and wished her friend good dreams. She felt immeasurably tired and was sleeping practically as soon as her head touched the pillow. After making a brief note in her journal, she turned off the cracked lamp and rolled on her side, breathing deeply.

The room felt like it was at a good temperature, comfortable, and the bed was of a variety that changes to suit the person sleeping in it. She felt dangerously close to sleeping, but couldn't get all the way there. A line of light was cast across the room from the door opening and suddenly a human form crawled out from under Britta's bed. Round spectacles and a Gryffindor uniform, it could have been Harry but for hazel eyes and a taunting voice. "How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" The figure entering the room froze. "Who want's to see me take off Snivellus's pants?" he chortled.

"_RIDIKULOS_," Snape said firmly, brandishing his wand. James Potter floated in mid-air, turning upside down. The boggart's dark robes fall up over his head, revealing red striped boxers. Snape's severe expression turned to a quick, rare laugh. His features looked almost ridiculous when smiling, especially with his expression seeming permanently glum with mirroring clothing.

James dropped to the floor, shrinking on the way down as if Sarah had been watching from the top of a tall building. She closed her eyes again, not watching the shadowy beast crawl back under the bed. Snape straightened himself, slipping his wand back into his pocket. He sat on the edge of Sarah's bed.

He reached out slowly, pulling the speckled bed sheets from her face. With one finger, he stroked her cheek. She blew her cover and smiled at the tickling sensation. "Sarah," he said with mock annoyance. "How much of that did you see?" he asked with more concern.

"I knew there had to be a reason you hated Harry," Sarah said. "Other than him being all hoity-toity…" Snape's expression softened, smiling to himself. "Are you mocking my choice of words?"

"No. I just appreciate people who aren't Potter fans."

"No danger of that," Sarah rolled her eyes.

He leaned in slightly. "One thing I like about you…" Sarah drew herself closer, smiling slightly with anticipation.

"Wait," Sarah said with remorse. "No one is supposed to know," she looked down. "What if Britta wakes?"

"She won't."

"How do you---" Sarah glared slightly. "You. Did. Not."

"How else could I ensure her to be no witness? It's not as if a sleeping potion can kill."

Sarah started to speak, but instead of words escaping, a small sigh did. Snape gingerly touched the slight wing-ding curl at the base of Sarah's hair. "I like that."

"I hate it," she muttered, looking down and flushing.

He cautiously took her by the chin, guiding her face in the darkness to finally close the distance between them. Sarah jumped slightly, hearing someone outside in the hallway, running upstairs to the noise of a particularly violent explosion from Fred and George's room, turning to glance at Britta, stirring slightly. Once she was certain no one would enter, she turned her face back to Snape's. His lips moved gently and effortlessly against hers, forcing nothing. When he finally pulled away, Sarah's head bent forward and buried her face into his robes. He smelled of the kitchen and of potions brewed with exactitude. Sarah was never really aware of nettles and bicorn powder smelling so nice. She smiled into his shoulder, feeling at peace, despite Molly's howls following further explosions.

She breathed his smell and lifts her face. This time, she leaned in and found his jawline with her index finger, dragging it softly down to his chin. Her arms snaked around his neck, drawing him as close to her and she could get him, trying not to snap his neck. She again kissed Snape, feeling a tingle expand across her whole body. The butterflies she felt in her abdomen were transfigured into wild birds. Suddenly, the voices were no longer just Molly's and her twin sons', but those of Ginny, Fleur, Harry, Hermione, and Lupin. Everyone was awake. Snape abruptly pulled awake, quickly devising a way to escape unnoticed.

Sarah stumbles from her bed, opening the door to see what is going on.

The light shines too brightly into the room. Ginny is shaking Hermione obnoxiously. "GET UP! SHEESH! GET OUT OF BED, SLEEPY HEAD! LET'S GO!"

"Ugh, Gins, what it is? Five?"

"No, five-thirty," she rolled her eyes.

Hermione rolled over and pulled herself out of bed. She wore pajama pants with ducks on them and a disastrous hairdo. She pulled a cardigan and jeans from her trunk and changed quickly. When she got out of the room, she saw a streak of red, dressed and all, running from Bill's room, dragging him out half-awake. Ron was wearing a tee-shirt and flannel pants, walking down the stairs like a zombie. Harry was dressed and walking like he'd had little sleep but didn't dare question Ginny.

Britta and Sarah were already downstairs, eating some pancakes with Tonks and Arthur. Molly dropped plates into the hands of the people who were just waking, ignoring the annoyance of Fleur stirring batter.

Once everyone had finished, Molly herded them into the family room. She dropped gifts into the laps of her children and the visitors she looked upon as hers. Each got a knit sweater in a dark shade of yarn with their first initial on it. Britta stood and passed her gifts to each person; pranking supplies for Fred and George, a book of Muggle electronics and inventions and how they work for Arthur, a fancy edition of Charming Your Cheese for Molly, and suitable gifts for each friend. Sarah hugged Mrs. Weasley for the sweater and presented her with a signed copy of "Magical Me." She gave fluorescent light bulbs to Arthur and a broom repair kit to Ginny.

Even Snape was lurking in the doorway. Molly went to try on a new dress from Arthur, bumping into Snape in the doorway.

"Hey, mum," George pointed to the mistletoe.

Molly blushed furiously. She stood on her tippie-toes, holding his shoulder to balance herself, and kisses him on the cheek. Snape murmurs Merry Christmas and steps out from underneath it as Molly runs upstairs to change. Sarah is inexplicably fist-clenching fuming, but Hermione, Ginny, and Britta step forward with a present for her. She looked shocked by the size. She tore quickly at the wrapping paper, revealing the newest model of Firebolt. Her eyes went wide. She pulled all three into an awkward hug and squealed. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

Ron and Harry handed her a less-impressive repair kit and book on Quidditch rules and regulations, but still she hugged them in a similar strangling hug. Sarah wandered out of the room to corner Snape in the kitchen. "I have a present for you."

"You didn't have to-"

Sarah pushed an envelope into his hand. He gave her a curious look as she skipped back into the room where the rest were congregating. Snape felt curious. He opened the front door, stepping into the deep snow. He tore the envelope open, revealing a single leaf of paper. He gasped slightly touching the picture, not sure if it could possibly be. The only thing written on the back is "Merry Christmas" in small handwriting.

He reentered the house just in time to see Molly coming down the stairs in her new dress, green with small stripes, worn with her colorful sweater. Britta smiles. "You look so pretty, Mrs. Weasley!"

Arthur wraps his arm around her shoulder, beaming. "You do, Mollywobbles," he said quietly before kissing her hair. "Merry Christmas."

Lupin leaned against the wall, arm around Tonks. In the next room, George conjured a little Santa and sleigh to fly in the living room. Tonks joined him by making the reindeer colorful. Lupin stayed in his place, Sarah walking by him. She opened the Quidditch book, looking for an obnoxious word. She addressed Lupin, who was about two feet away. Without holding the book out, she pointed at a word and asked for the pronunciation. "That says 'stooging', Sarah," he said, now quite close to her to see the word.

Fred "ooh"ed. "Mistletoe. You gotta."

Lupin saw Sarah's flirtatious expression. Before she could move toward him, he put a hand on either side of her head, kissing the top. "Merry Christmas," his eyebrows twitched and he walked back to Tonks, kissing her in the way Sarah has hoped he'd have done to her.

She looked fleetingly disappointed but Snape grabbed her hand and pulled her outside.

"Where did you find this?" he asked holding the photo out.

"After a bit of detective work through Filch's office…"

Snape shook his head. "Amazing."

Sarah went back in, feeling cold enough to put on her S sweater. Snape stood outside, still looking at the photo. A beautiful ginger-haired girl with green eyes, laughing and struggling against the arms of a long-haired boy with a hooked nose and mischievous smile.


	2. Messy Affairs

The screaming whistle of the scarlet train temporarily drowning out Luna's absent humming. Britta leaned her head against the window, straightening her blue tie and turning the page of the Quibbler. Neville entered the compartment, smiling a bit and sitting to the right of Britta.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Britta pulled out an appropriate amount of knuts and handed them to the woman in exchange for some Acid Pops. Her offer to Neville was declined as the compartment door clicked shut.

Luna looked up through swirling lenses. "That woman has a bit of a problem with wrackspurts."

The door opened again. Sarah plopped down, emerald hair out of Slytherin pride. "Hey there. Got a copy of the Quibbler for me?"

"Oh, yes," Luna smiled, Quibbler outstretched.

"Sorry I didn't come for the holiday. I stayed at the Wealseys," Sarah said to Luna and Neville.

"No problem," Neville said.

"Not a problem at all. My dad got me the horn of a crumple-horned Snorkack," Luna explained. "As you can see, it was quiet eventful."

"Wow, Luna," Sarah replied in astonishment.

"Yes," she smiled.

Sarah reached into her bag. "Sorry they aren't wrapped." She handed a copy of Properties of Rare Plants & Fungi to Neville and a keychain charm used to attract crumple-horned Snorkacks. Neville thanked Sarah multiple times flipping through the pages and putting it into his bag with a book on Gillyweed from Britta.

"Oh, excellent!" Luna cried, clipping it immediately to her bag.

From there, the conversation came fluidly and animatedly until the train creaked to a stop.

* * *

"Vincente, Hera?"

Before the hat touched her head, it shouted "RAVENCLAW!"

"Xenophone, Ian?"

A timid looking first year apprehensively approached the Sorting Hat. The Hat grumbled to itself, then called out "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Great Hall had the air of the Weasley's house, but on a grander scale. The students were bustling about, welcoming the newly sorted first-years. Sarah sat by Draco, eating a plate comprised mainly of mashed potatoes with some bits of other foods. The Bloody Baron swooped through the table, swishing his sword and making menacing noises.

The Gray Lady gracefully strolled along the Ravenclaw table, greeting her favorite students. Luna had finished her meal, eating a small bowl of pudding. Britta giggled and took a small piece of pie. It was delicious but no comparison to the pie made by Mrs. Weasley.

Ron had the same thought as he took a second piece of pie.

"Ron, do you _ever_ stop eating?" Hermione asked looking slightly disgusted.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Potter," Nearly-Headless Nick said, tipping his head.

"Hello, Sir Nicholas," said Harry and a few Gryffindors in unison.

Peeves appeared in the center of the floor. "Good evening, students of Hoggy-warts," he yelled, grabbing a fistful of food and preparing to fling it at a Hufflepuff girl before the Bloody Baron intervened.

"Peeves," growled the Bloody Baron. Peeves dropped his handful on the floor, shrinking back into the tiles and feeling thwarted. Filch smiled smugly, stroking Mrs. Norris.

The clinking of silverware gradually tapered to a stop, though the conversation didn't. It grew louder if anything and for each interval of time that the noise increase, the Fat Friar spoke more loudly to be heard by his house.

"You're bloody insane," Wayne Hopkins howled, laughing, at the Fat Friar's story with Zacharias Smith.

"It's true!" the Fat Friar declared for verification. "She really said it!"

"So what'd you say?" Zacharias breathlessly asked.

"I would've said it, too," said Leila, a half-veela girl who was known for her ability to charm unicorns.

"Well, of course, I said—"

From the next table over, Padma leaned in giggling. "I think Neville fancies you, Britta!"

"No he does," she blushed.

"Have you even seen the way—"

Dumbledore stands, calling for silence. "As I understand it, you've all finished. I've got to ask you to follow your prefects to the dormitory and go nowhere else for the evening. You'll be going to your classes tomorrow." He waved a hand, clearing the plates and leaving schedules in their places. "Have a wonderful year," he nodded once, sitting down. McGonagall walks from behind the table to help guide a confused looking Gryffindor first year.

The students crowded near the door, waiting to be able to piled out. First years linked arms with classmates of the same house, hoping not to get separated. Sarah watches her feet tensely from the staircase she stands on with Pansy and Draco, focusing on not looking anywhere else and seeing that she's moving with the marble staircase.

"Mudblood's mire," Draco sneered at the portrait.

"Proceed," the portrait swung open. "Be extra nasty to the Mudblood for me, eh?"

Passing Ravenclaws ignored the foul language and proceeded to their portrait, Luna trailing behind. Stopping at the eagle knocker, they waited for the question "What is round as a dishpan, deep as a tub, and still the ocean couldn't fill it up?"

"A sieve," Padma guessed confidently.

The eagle bowed his head in a nod and let them pass. The common room felt bluer than before, usually feeling this way after periods of absence.

Ginny had a similar thought, burying her face into a pillow to smell Hogwarts and smiling at being back. After her trunk was back in place, she went down to the common room with Hermione. "Look here, Hermione!" Colin snapped a photograph of Ginny, Ron, and Hermione on a plushy red couch in front of the fire. His camera was new, shiny silver. "Harry!"

Seamus and Dean sat at a table playing Wizard Chess, next to be photographed and next to ignore the bright flashes of the camera.

Hours later, the only lighting in the room was from the fireplace and no one was left in the common room. Sarah pushed the portrait open, stepping out into the hallway. She began her journey to the dungeon.

The first few flights of stairs were descended without event, but soon Mrs. Norris became visible in the dim light. "Of course…" Sarah whispered.

"I GOTCHER KEYS! AH-HA, WHATSA SQUIB GOING TO DO TO GET 'EM BACK, HUH?" She hid in the shadow, not moving until Filch passed quickly, running after Peeves. Sarah let out a breath and recommenced her swift walk, trying to keep within the darkest parts of the hall. Approaching the dungeon, she stopped, pulling her hair back a bit, wishing she had a brush or something. She gave herself a moment to regain a normal breathing rate and then gathered all of the confidence she had to knock on the door.

"Enter." She straightened her robe and went to reach for the door handle just before it opened itself. Snape sat at his desk, organizing papers. "Miss Baxter?"

"Professor? I was wondering if you had some spare time."

"I don't actually," he gestured to his desk. "You should be in bed. And Dumbledore is expecting me in his office soon," he said pointedly, registering Sarah's disgruntlement. She got a brief kiss on the forehead, but it was much more passionate than Lupin under the mistletoe, yet not what she'd hoped for. "Get back upstairs. You don't need a detention on the first day back. Especially with Quidditch against Ravenclaw less than a week away."

Snape steered Sarah out the door and in the general direction she would need to go to get back. He went in the opposite direction, taking the longer path to the gargoyles. _What was she thinking? She could've been seen. She could've exposed the secret. I could've lost her. _Snape knew he would have no choice if he was caught.

"Worried, Dearie?" the portrait of Belphebe Benedek inquired.

"No," he said shortly, still advancing toward the office. "Sherbet lemons." He stepped onto the coiling staircase until he was pulled to the top. He knocked once, loudly, before the door opened and was welcomed by Dumbledore.

"Ah. Severus," he held out a small bowl of lemon drops in offering. Snape shook his head slightly, "I have a year, you say?" he gestured with his blackened hand. "Well, I suppose it will only make Lord Voldemort's plan much more straight forward."

"The Dark Lord doesn't expect that he will succeed," Snape said.

"So, when he fails, his plan is that that successor to the job is you, Severus?"

"I believe so."

"And Lord Voldemort believes he sees it in the future that he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?"

"He does, yes."

"Do I have you word you will do all that is within your power to protect the students in the event that he does?"

"You do," he nodded fixedly.

"Now, Severus, the task of which you must give precedence over all others is to offer guidance to the Malfoy boy. He may blame you for his father's loss of status but he is vulnerable at this time. You must discover the intended course of action. I am not so much concerned for my fate as the fate of those who may become unforeseen victims of his actions. To save Draco from Lord Voldemort's wrath, there is but one thing to do."

"You mean to let him kill you?"

"No, definitely not. His soul is thus far undamaged. I don't want it to rip. I intend to let you kill me. I mean, Severus, in due course. Certainly within the year there will be an excellent opportunity to do so," Dumbledore smiled. "I'd prefer a quick exit, as opposed to the messy affair it'd be if dearest Bellatrix were involved. Or Greyback."

Snape smirked. _Dearest Bellatrix_. "What have you spent so much time with Potter for?"

"I must give him information."

"Information you do no trust me with? And of our deal?"

"Severus, I prefer a single person not know all of my secrets. Especially if that single person spends a great deal of time with Lord Voldemort. And Harry must know nothing of the idea until the last possible moment. Or perhaps he will not have the strength to do what he must."

"What must he do?"

"We'll say there will soon be a time that Voldemort will fear for the life of his snake.

"Nagini?"

"There is one more subject I'd like to speak to you about but it is so late; I do feel I should sleep."

"Which subject is this?"

"I note you spend a great deal of time with Miss Baxter?"

"Yes," Snape bristled.

"I've never before seen a Slytherin with such compassion for Muggles and Muggle-borns alike. She certainly is a character," Dumbledore noted.

Snape barely blinked.

"Be certain to use your words with care," Dumbledore's eyes connoting something else entirely.

Severus stayed silent, not sure how to reply.

"That's all."

Snape turned to leave.

"Oh, and Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Watch your step," Dumbledore advised with a cryptic tap to the side of his nose and half-wink.


	3. Bludgers

Cho Chang stretched an elastic around her ponytail in the common room. "Let's go."

"Quidditch game?" Britta asked, book askew.

Cho nodded. "Versus Slytherin."

"Excellent," her book shut and she was momentarily running up to the dormitories to drop it on her bed. Fastening the clasp of her robe she tapped Luna. "Coming to the Quidditch game?'

"Mm, yes," she answered, standing slowly after re-tying her shoes and skipping after Britta.

The air outside was crisp and a thick layer of cirro-cumulus clouds hid the sky. "I repeat, _clean_ game. THREE… TWO… ONE!" Madam Hooch directed a stern look at Malfoy and flung the chest open, unleashing the bludgers. From her seat, Britta observed Hermione reading The Philosophy of the Mundane: Why Muggles Prefer Not to Know rather than paying attention. Ron glancing down, seeing her still reading, and looked slightly appalled.

"Hermione! There's a game going on and you're reading. Amazing," he shook his head and squinted briefly. Luna cheered brightly for no particular team as both teams set into motion.

Michael Corner slammed into Sarah, trying to bump the quaffle from her hands. "Slytherin has the quaffle but Ravenclaw refuses to take that sitting down! Oh! Baxter passes to—INTERCEPTED BY CORNER."

Cho Chang was a blur of black and blue, dodging and performing a Wronski Feint after catching a glimpse of the Snitch. Draco Malfoy followed her diving motion, nearly crashing into the ground, only to realize he'd been fooled. "Su Li has taken possession of the Quaffle!" cried Jordan. Crabbe leaned on his Firebolt, attempting to reduce wind resistance on his bulk size, searching for the bludger. As soon as it came his way, the metal bat sent it in Su Li's direction. She made a slight dip and tossed the Quaffle. "RAVENCLAW SCORES!" The Slytherin stands erupted into jeers and boos. "Chaser Baxter ducks both bludgers and Ravenclaw chaser, Corner! Oh! He's tossed the Quaffle… BLOCKED BY BLETCHLEY!"

Sarah smirked and flew only faster with the Quaffle toward Annelise Signe at the goal post, throwing the ball overhand. Signe bumped it with one hand to Roger Davies. "Davies has the Quaffle and—ooh. He's hit by a bludger. Wait- Wait. He's not down. But he's lost the Quaffle! Penalty in favor of Slytherin!"

The penalty shot is awarded to Warrington. "10 points to Slytherin!"

The game resumed, starting with Ravenclaw possession of the Quaffle. "Beater Terry Boot hit the bludger into Malfoy—ooh, that has got to hurt. Davies passes the Quaffle to Su Li. INTERCEPTED! Baxter has got the Quaffle; she tosses… Oh, good move on her part. Missed by Signe. SLYTHERIN SCORES," cheers and groans fill the air, covering all other noises more thickly than the clouds covered the sky. "Quaffle to Davies. Davies to Corner, Corner, back to Davies…Davies to Su Li—Su Li takes a bludger to the shoulder. What a trooper- SHE DIDN'T DROP THE QUAFFLE, FOLKS. Quaffle passed to- oh, INTERCEPTED BY VAISEY!" Lee looks in wonder at the ensuing brawl. Goyle had hit Kevin Entwhistle with his beater's bat. "Goyle and Entwhistle are brawling-"

McGonagall grabbed the microphone. "Break. It. Up."

"Back to the game, folks. Baxter pass—no she.. SLYTHERIN SCORES!" Lee cried, pausing to allow for an audience reaction. "It appears Cho Chang has spotted the Snitch."

She darted around the field, reaching straight out in front of her, one hand on her broom. Malfoy flew up behind her but his Firebolt was much faster than her Nimbus 2000. Draco balanced himself, narrowly dodging a bludger sent his way by Terry Boot. His long, pale fingers wrapped tightly around the golden ball, hindering the movement of the wings. His head bent forward, wiping sweat from his hairline with his sleeve and sighing. The Slytherins burst into cheers, yet he didn't smirk or otherwise smugly express his pride.


	4. Shrinking Solutions

In the second row of the classroom, Britta tapped her wand against a copy of Advanced Potion Making. The rings surrounding it turned a pale gray, indicating boredom. Her wand was similar to Tonk's hair in the aspect of randomly changing color.

The outside chamber of the dungeon began to make clanging noises, indicating the entrance of their teacher. He opened the door, much louder yet more pleasantly than Snape would have.

"Hello, hello," Slughorn called out, glancing around the room. "I've got fifth years in here, is that correct? Ah. Yes, yes, I do… Well, I suppose everyone is here; we haven't got a single empty desk," he shook his head. "We'll start with a simple Shrinking Solution. Open your books to page thirty, ah… thirty two."

The spine of Sarah's book popped slightly. It seemed she spend a bit less energy on potions homework without the menacing of Snape as a motivator. That is how many people felt. If there was little threat of spending hours scraping tubeworms off a desk when one could be in Hogsmeade, Potions tended to fall into a bit of neglect.

Nonetheless, Slughorn didn't appear to know that this was in the curriculum for incoming third-years, so the completion should have been a cinch.

Britta pulled vials and plugged containers onto the table, sorting out the ingredients that she needed. "Sir, do you have any spare rat spleen?"

"I do, dear girl," he said, dropping a slimy organ onto her palm.

Knitting her brow slightly, she thanked him and went over to her cauldron, placing it on a chopping board off to the side as she started to dice the daisy roots.

From the table behind, Ginny skinned a shrivelfig in partnership with Luna Lovegood, who was spacily slicing caterpillars. Ginny glanced at Luna now and then, worrying her friend would sever a finger because she wasn't paying attention.

Sarah, looking ill, crushed a leech to collect its juice. She immediately poured it into the cauldon, following daisy roots. She stirred counterclockwise per instruction, with one clockwise turn for each twelve in one direction.

Britta had just added her rat spleen and half of the sliced caterpillars, moving the addition of sliced shrivelfig. The potion frothed and turned a sickly purple color. Adding the rest of the caterpillar, the potion turned a bright blue.

Adding the remainder of the roots, it became a bright acid green as Sarah's grew bright blue. She stirred, adding the daisy roots. The green color matched her hair and causes her to smile in a brighter color.

"Wonderful!" Slughorn said, face reflecting the green color, looking rather like the Jolly Green Giant. "_Wonderful_," he repeated. Of course, the smile didn't last so long because there was soon an immense explosion. Nasty orange goop, a worthless poison, covered large portions of the floor.

"Merlin's pants!" Leila cried. She'd had to repeat fifth year potions for the number of these incidents in Snape's classroom. Her eyebrows had been singed off, and even then, the veela in her was showing and she remained strikingly beautiful. "Not again…"

A boy called Walter Shink had contorted facial features, some grievously shrunken. "Oh!" Slughorn cried, running into his office. He emerged with a teal liquid antidote in a corked bottle. He experienced some difficulty getting the cork over the bottle, but then tilted Walter's head back and dribbled the liquid over his face. Upon contact, his face untwisted, the features regaining their size.


	5. Blunder

"SILENCE," Snape growled. "If you're such experts, I want three feet of parchment on this chapter by tomorrow." He sat down at his desk, looking hostile enough that no one protested. "Begin reading the chapter now."

Sarah opened the book to the proper page, groaning slightly at the contents and taking out a quill. Her thoughts were interrupted by daydreams, resulting in loopier handwriting and having to scribble out occasional words because she nearly began to write the stories inside her head. Ginny was determined to get it all done. She wanted to be back to the common room in time to see Dean.

Luna wrote her paper, mind clear of nargles, with full concentration. She worked at a rate rivaled only by Hermione, she'd seen her work in the library, and was nearly done before the end of class.

Britta scribbled words furiously across her paper, touching the note in her pocket gently. _What could that possibly say?_ It was a little baffling and also frustrating. In any other class, she could've read it sneakily but, with Snape around, it wasn't an especially bright idea.

"Class dismissed," Snape said suddenly, immediately retreating to his office.

Sarah stuffed her book into her bag, following him up the short flight of stairs. "Professor?"

Snape raised his eyebrows smugly. "Don't you have an essay to write?" His question was wry; Sarah ignored it.

"Well, _sir_, I got enough of it done to take a break," Sarah said both playfully and irritatedly.

"I suppose it is well-earned."

He took a step toward her, pushing the door shut. He escorted Sarah to the desk on the far side of the classroom. Glancing at the back of her hand, reading _I shall be compliant_, Sarah's gaze inspired Snape to take her hand and kiss the pink scar tissue. She was reminded of each time she'd walked across this floor. The first time was to see Gilderoy Lockhart. That was how she'd gotten Mrs. Weasley's Christmas gift this year. The second time, Lupin, to ask about boggarts. That's when she developed a sudden attraction.

The third time was Mad-Eye Moody, asking him for a demonstration of a certain spell she had heard of. The fifth was Umbridge. She was being interrogated. It was because she joined DA over the Inquisitorial Squad. When Sarah wouldn't take the tea or answer any questions, Umbridge immediately gave her a detention. The sixth was a fairly distant memory, yet was only this year, the most distinct detail being that she was only tall enough that her face was just below his shoulder level.

She was interrupted from her reverie by two hands covering both of hers. Sarah stretched up a little bit to reach his mouth. Snape still had to lean down to compensate for the height difference. Sarah's eyes closed, taking in the moment, but Snape suddenly pulled away.

Peering at Snape's face with her eyes wide, she registered his fear and anger and shock.

"OUT!" he hissed at the doorway, his emotions causing the sound of the word to burn even Sarah, taking her back to many occasions of trying to exist while visiting in her Muggle uncle's home.

"Sir—" Sarah began, immediately feeling sympathy for the intruder.


	6. SPEW

Waiting in the Great Hall at no particular table, Neville sat quietly. He didn't know what to do with this. He didn't know how to proceed. Britta just sat down across from him. "Hi, Neville," she said. "What's going on?"

"Oh, not so much," he said with far less confidence than he'd hoped.

"Me either. Just homework," she shrugged slightly, thinking of his note.

"Ah," he nodded. "Well, I was, um, w-wondering if you'd maybe come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend. Like to the Three Broomsticks or something. I mean, you don't have to but-"

"I'd love to, Neville."

A Hufflepuff Neville didn't know walked up to them. "Hello, Britta."

"Hi, Dylan."

"Do you support S.P.E.W?"

"SPEW?" Neville asked.

"Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Yes, then," Neville answered, confused. "Sure."

Dylan handed him a leaflet regarding S.P.E.W. and walked away waving.


	7. Bumbling Fool

"I don't think he's going to tell someone," Sarah whispered.

Severus paced the room, still scowling. "I should have known better… I should've known not to let this happen."

"Sev, it's not as bad as—"

"And if your peers find out?"

"I sincerely don't believe he's going to t—"

Snape cut her off again. "You put too much faith in that dunderhead."

"He is _not_," Sarah seethed. "…a dunderhead."

"A bumbling fool. It'll likely just _slip_," Snape looked murderous. "You trust so easily."


	8. Dirty Little Secrets

Neville and Britta sat together at the Three Broomsticks later that evening, drinking warm, sapid Butterbeers. "Like Gilderoy Lockhart?" Britta giggled.

"Well, gee, he was, after all, gifted," Neville said jokingly.

"If only we'd had DA then, too."

"It's amazing we kept it going so long as we did last year," he said, wide-eyed. "Umbridge was a _nightmare_."

"Filch didn't think so."

He smiled at it.

"Are you okay?" Britta asked. "You seem a bit…"

"Well, yeah," Neville quietly replied. "I'm fine."

"Gran okay?"

"Yes, she's…" Neville began. "I just saw something more than a little disturbing, is all."

"Oh," Britta said somewhat questioningly.

"Will you promise me not to tell anyone?" Britta nodded. Neville looked around to be sure none of the noisy crowd were listening. He leaned close to her ear and her eyes went wide.


	9. Unintended

Head in his hands, he finally spoke. "I don't want to lose you. Like I lost…" He started shaking his head. Sarah was slightly teary. Snape had made her considerably distressed, even if she had faith in Neville not to tell.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, folding inward. "If some else finds out, what do we do?"

"I assume I would be sacked."

Sarah lifted her head, looking him in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't want this to happen."

He put his arm around her, reassuringly. "It isn't your fault. I think you should go back to your common room. It's late to be wandering the corridors."

Reluctantly, Sarah stood. "Sev- Professor?"

"Yes?"

She made a slight choking sound through her tears, resulting in a grimace. "Nevermind."


	10. Opals

Neville and Britta walked closely together, thick sleeves brushing against eachother as their arms swung while walking. They walked the path back to the school slowly, chattering about less severe things. After Neville got out his repulsion, he seemed to go back to normal. As their pace waned to a halt, they listened to two girls arguing nearby.

Britta laughed absently while rubbing her hands together, hearing something about trusting a stranger and it being dangerous. Neville looked at her reddened hands, awkwardly covering them with his in an attempted to warm them. Britta leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. "Thanks."

His face turned a shade of red even deeper than his scarf, smiling nearly imperceptibly. Their faces still close and his hands remaining on hers, he boldy put his lips against hers.

A piercing scream permeated the air, making both turn. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and an older girl stood staring upward at a the other girl, Katie, a Gryffindor chaser, who was involved in the argument. She had risen six feet off the ground, looking as if she had seen great horrors. She was screaming in a way that made both Britta and Neville shiver. Ron and Harry moved forward to grab her legs, but she fell to the ground, continuing to shriek. She thrashed about in all directions on the ground.

Neville looked away, pained, as Harry ran toward the castle for help. "Hagrid!" Britta and Hermione screamed, attracting his attention. "HAGRID!" As he registered the scene, he ordered everyone to step back. Britta was hugging Neville, while watching what was happening to Katie. He stared momentarily, pulling her into his arms and sprinting toward the castle. Hermione put her arm around Katie's weeping friend. "I told her not to open the package!" she sobbed.


	11. Woe

Horrendous, splitting pain shooting through the crown of her head. Sarah pulled the blankets over her, covering her face with the canopy surrounding the four-poster bed. She practically breathed fire onto the hands of Isolde, a skinny black-haired girl. "What?" she snarled.

"You have class," Isolde said.

"I'm not going."

"Do _not_ be ridiculous," Isolde demanded, ripping the covers off of her and pulling her off the bed. "Go to breakfast." Sarah grumbled, grabbing her robes and dragging her feet down the stairs. She gave stormy glares to all those crossing her path. Once the headache subsided, she simply felt drained, absently grabbing from the toast rack. When it was time to proceed to her class, she followed Luna through the grounds.

Luna skipped merrily, as if the world weren't crashing down, to Hagrid's hut. Sarah settled quietly as far back from the group as possible, standing next to Ginny.

After a doubletake, Ginny looked concerned. "You okay?"

"Didn't sleep well last night."

Ginny just accepted the answer as Hagrid emerged from his hut. "Quiet, you all. Now 'terday, I've got for yer is a Jarvey. Now, it resembles a ferret. Sometimes it's confused by Muggles as one, but the thing is—"

"Professor Hagrid?" shouted a third year, swiftly approaching. He had brilliant blue eyes in contrast to his dark skin. "Professor Snape requests a Miss Baxter to his classroom."

"Oh, well, I serpose, but hurry back. You won't want ter be missing this," he said, gesturing for her to follow at the boy.

Sarah rubbed her eye, walking forward to follow him back into the building. She sighed, walking through the entry hall, at Mrs. Norris, meowing loudly. Every time she saw her, reminded of her cat, felt her fingers ache with the need to pet her. As she learned in her first year, Filch doesn't take kindly to canoodling of his cat.

Knocking heavily on the door, she awaited for an invitation to enter.

"Miss Baxter?" Snape drawled.

"Mmh," she replied, uneasily.

"I just wanted to see you. I've this foreboding feeling."

"About what, sir?"

He shook his head. "I don't know."

Sarah felt her breathing speed up, genuinely sensing his distress. This time, smartly, she charmed the door so it wouldn't open for anyone without warning. She sat down on the edge of his desk, "Sir, is it about…" She gestured to his tattooed arm. He stood pulling her into a tight hug, restricting her arms so that she couldn't cling to him like she wished she could.

When he finally let her go, she turned, kissing his cheek and clasping her arms around his neck. She felt this might express the million desperate words she couldn't seem to pronounce. As she finally let go, she saw the message had gotten through; her surly professor had a heartbroken expression. He kissed her lips, very briefly, but it felt like enough.

"I love you," he murmered into her hair, smiling at a bow with a Muggle cartoon cat on it. "Please don't change."

Pulling away felt nearly impossible, as if a force held them together like magnets. In many ways, they were magnets. Sarah was usually colorful enough to be confused with a tropical bird, her professor wearing only black. Sarah was often bubbly enough for the both, her friend balancing it with his brooding. Sarah could hug nearly any person, mercilessly, where her Severus was rigid and apathetic. Inside of her head, a charge of protons moved rapidly and unchangingly. Inside of his head, a charge of electrons moved rapidly and unchangingly.

And so they drifted gravitationally into the same path.


	12. Blibbering Humdinger

"You could laugh," Luna said, "but as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, you should know that there is a such thing as a Blibbering Humdinger."

Hagrid looked perplexed. "Luna, I've see the rarest of beasts, but never have I seen a Blibbering Humdinger," he looked up smiling widely at a diversion from the conversation. "Ah, Sarah, good te see yer back."

Sarah smiled slightly without words, joining Luna by the Jarvey. "What exactly is that?"

"Jarvey. They are quite friendly, actually. Just a bit rude when you aren't properly respectful."

"When aren't you just the sunshine comin' out the babboon's behind?" growled the Jarvey.

Luna just smiled.


	13. Paintings

"Uninhibited undiluted," The painting swung open, repeating its usual request to be nasty to Mudbloods. "Screw you," Sarah growled, passing through. It slammed shut after her, apparently offended and muttering about blood traitors.

Draco sat morosely by the fire.

"Draco," Sarah greeted him. She sat down on one green chair near him. "How's it going?"

He stared into the fire.

"I see you're feeling bubbly. I'll be back later," she said, standing and walking upstairs to her bed. A deep sigh was all it took to fall asleep.

Her dream was less comforting than reality. Sarah saw herself in the Forbidden Forest, cold and alone. The trees had no beginning and no end. She ran forward into the shadows, searching her pocket for her wand but finding nothing. Her legs moved languidly, as if under water. As if running through molasses.

A skinny boy with a prefect badge and pale hair and a high, cold voice stood before her, holding a diary. "He cannot live. As he grows weaker, I grow stronger," he laughed darkly. "He cannot survive if I am to gain power."

His long fingers pointed to a river of blood. Its source was Severus, lying there like Cedric had before the whole school just less than two years ago. He was limp, his eyes without light. Words spilled from his mouth as blood spilled from his side. "Go! You need to protect both your safety and your honor. Don't let them think-" Flashing green lights were from all directions.

"You cannot save him. Step aside girl!" A Death Eater with long blond hair hissed as the boy's skin had turned gray and his nose melted away, hair falling out in clumps.

"Go."

Sarah ran on Snape's order, running with boneless legs, not knowing where she was going and unable to find a way out. As she ran, she saw Britta, staring piercingly at her. "You're playing with fire."

Sarah couldn't speak.


	14. Veritaserum

She and Neville had stayed in the Great Hall together until Filch ousted them into the corridors. Hands lightly against eachother, they walked in the general direction of their dormitories, torpidly because of the time. Their words hung in the air, no longer speaking. A few stray students wandered the corridors, avoiding stepping through ghosts. An unfortunate first year learned for the first time that doing that isn't fun. Neville started to hedge at a glance of their sallow-faced professor.

"Longbottom," he demanded that Neville come to him with a gesture. "Come to my office with me."

Britta bit her lip awkwardly, dropping his hand and waving discreetly, continuing on her way.

The walk to his office was uncomfortable, seeming longer than the few moments it was. Snape shoved the door, striding past Neville to his desk. "Close it."

Neville timidly shut the door, remembering something Britta had said earlier. Why not just think of the real thing as though it were a boggart? Neville smiled more than he'd intended to at the thought of the ghastly vulture hat on top of a greasy, black mane, shiny red handbag in tow. Snape regarded the smile wantonly. "Think it's funny, you imbecile?" Snape snapped. "How much did you see?" Neville looked down at his hands, starting to stutter. "How _much did you see_?"

"I didn-"

"How much did you see?" Snape thundered.

"I saw a couple of seconds of you-"

"Did you tell anyone?"

"No," Neville said, slightly more confidently.

"You're lying."

"No—" Snape stood viciously and grabbed a vial from his drawer, muttering about how he knew it wouldn't be done the easier way. Taking Neville by the jaw, he poured in a preportioned bottle of Veritaserum.

"What did you see?" he repeated impatiently.

"I saw a bit of you kissing Sarah."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"O-only Britta," Neville said.

"Are you certain no one heard?"

"It was at the Three Broomsticks. I-I was quiet. It didn't look like anyone was listening."

"You stupid—"

"I don't think anyone heard!"

Snape looked like he regretted giving Neville Veritaserum, as opposed to poison.

"Don't you even _dare_," Snape barked threateningly. "tell anyone else. And you tell that girlfriend of yours to keep her mouth shut. Forget what you saw."


	15. Muggle Friends

Neville picked tiredly at his breakfast, sitting across from Luna and Britta.

"Ok, Neville?" Luna wondered.

"Mhh, yeah," he answered apathetically.

"Did you hear?" Seamus ran down the table, addressing a small cluster of Gryffindors near them. They all looked up at his arm, outstretched with a copy of the Daily Prophet. "You-Know-Who's sent his followers into the Muggle world. '164 Slain in United States'," he burst. Britta snapped up, snatching the paper from his hand. Her face paled as she read it, putting it on the table in front of where Seamus was standing.

She went back to her breakfast, eating her toast without hunger.

Two tawny owls swooped in dropped letters and packages onto the laps of three different students, another owl arriving to crash into the table in front of Ron Weasley. Clancy dropped a letter onto her lap, awaiting a bit of toast as repayment. Britta tore the green envelope open with long nails. All of the muscles in her chest tightened so she couldn't breathe. Both parents, an aunt, an uncle, seven cousins, gone. Her brother, gone. The initial shock turned to crestfallen anger, screaming loudly enough that everyone in the Great Hall looked. McGonagall stood, going to make her way over to her, as Britta ran from the room. Neville lifted the parchment from the table and tucking it into his robe, feeling a pang of sympathy and a hallow feeling.

Draco began laughing with his friends, only for the shock of a slap to the face. "You bastard!" Sarah lividly shouted, an owl dropping a package at her feet. She'd have said more but picked it up out of curiousity.

She attempted to rip away at the tape, then giving up and tapping at it with her wand, murmuring a removal charm. The tape fell away in shiny curls, leaving clean folds of cardboard under her fingertips. There was a letter on top. Unfolding it, she began to read the words.

Rereading the words, she heard something inside her head shatter. She shook, clutched the letter. She didn't put it down to rip open the brown paper of the package. A black sweatshirt was folded inside, Jack Skellington's face emblazoned across the front. She hugged it to her chest, leaving the box on the table.

Austin. Austin was killed in the Muggle slaying. She broke into a run, crying and ducking into a bathroom. The air was freezing and the floor was damp. Sarah's head spun and she fell onto her knees near the toilet, feeling sick. She pulled her robe off, replacing it with the sweatshirt. It smelled exaclty like her friend. Pocketing the letter, she leaned her head against the stall's door, sobbing.

Myrtle made sympathetic cooing noises as she drifted about above the cubicles. "I know," she sniffed. "Isn't it dreadful?" Myrtle was enjoying each of her tears. She kept cooing like a pidgeon.

"Myrtle, GO!"


	16. Creeping

She fell asleep on the floor there, dreaming restlessly of all of the times she intentionally made situations awkward and all of the times they laughed together until their sides cramped. Myrtle was swishing around laughing at her pain and bursting into tears now and then. A sensation of being pricked by burning needles ran through her blood as she lie limply on the floor, clenching her hands into fists around the cloth of her robe.

"Shh, shh," she heard, feeling as though she were floating now, making a noise from pain. Whole body numb, all she could feel was her head bobbing against something. Her eyes opened, bleary and stinging, immediately falling shut. She felt herself being lowered onto something incredibly soft and warm, falling out of consciousness with a pleasant stroking feeling on the side of her head and someone with their arms around her. These dreams felt empty.

No sound, no color. Just faces, only the right one was no where to be found.

Feeling achy and tired, she lifted her head, seeing Severus still by her side, looking unusually calm. She smiled at the innocence of his expression, kissing his forehead. His eyes opened, eyebrows scrunching in reaction to the light.

"Feeling any better?" he said, not exactly expecting any answer. "You were talking the whole night." Sarah looked for a window to see the time. "It's about eight now."

Sarah leaned back, feeling less alarmed. "I miss… I'm not sure that you understand," she looked down.

Snape pulled her closer into him. "I lost Lily, do you not recall? I do understand."

"Oh, I'm—"

Snape shook his head. "I know," she leaned her head into him. "Are you going to class?"

"I guess."

He stood up and handed her the robe she'd had with her the night before. Sarah had no intention of putting it on, but she appreciated having it. "Where did my books go?" she asked. "I left my bag at the table." Snape gestured at a spot near the door. Sarah raised her eyebrows, wondering how he'd thought ahead like that.

"Not to undermine this gesture, but how is no one going notice I never went to bed?"

"Don't worry about it," he put his hand on her shoulder, kissing her cheek. "Exit discreetly."

He left the room.


	17. Rad Brows

Harry stared at the healine in Guide to Advanced Tranfiguration. Human transformation. The potential outcomes all felt bleak. McGonagall had mirrors on the tables in front of each student. A fifth year Ravenclaw he saw at the Weasley's sometimes sitting in front of him saw him looking at her through her mirror, giving a questioning look until he looked away. Ron and Hermione were still at odds, the situation only worsening since Christmas.

McGonagall asked them to all focus on their eyebrows, changing the color. Seamus scrunched his face, trying to turn the little clumps of hair above his eyes another color, resulting in the hair that had grown back to fall out. He tipped he head backward in frustration. Ron, on the other hand, had sprouted a magnificantly fluffy handlebar mustache.

Hermione laughed mercilessly, only to see Ron make reprisal by doing an accurate impression of her bouncing from her seat whenever a question was asked, both Lavender and Parvati cackling like Bellatrix Lestrange.

Britta had thus far managed to turn both of her eyebrows in a patchy blue, partially purple. Neville looked frustrated next to her, squinting with ferocity at himself in the mirror. They students around him laughed at their friends' attempts and at their own. Harry had one yellow eyebrow when he followed Hermione from the room after their class was dismissed. Luna was standing behind her crying friend, patting her on the shoulder hazily.

"Oh, hello, Harry."

"Hi, Luna," Harry said, looking in concern at Hermione.

"Did you know your eyebrow is yellow?"

"Hermione, you left your stuff," he held out the books.

"Thanks. I need to go," she swiftly hurried out.

Harry looked back at Luna. "Maybe I should…" gesturing at his surroundings in the bathroom. Luna followed him out.

"She'd said something about Ron," Luna said. "I'd thought she was Myrtle until I saw her face; she seems very upset. Ron says very unkind things sometimes, though he can be funny."

"Yeah, I s'pose," Harry said.

"How's your term been?"

"Al-alright," he replied. "How about you?"

"Well, I get very lonely with D.A.; Ginny still talks to me though. She got a few Slytherins to stop calling me "Loony" a few days ago, actually.."

"Would you like to come to Slughorn's party with me, as friends, I mean?"

"With you?" she interupted Harry from saying it was okay if she didn't want to. "Is that why you dyed your eyebrow? Should I have done mine, too? No one has ever asked asked me to a party before, as a friend! I'd love to!"

"You don't need to dye your eyebrow; I did it by mistake. I actually need to fix that…" Harry said. "I'll meet you in the entrance hall, alright? At eight?"

She smiled, nodding vaguely and walked away.

"POTTY LOVES LOONY! HOW SWEET—" Peeves hooted. "_POTTY LOVES LOONY!"_

"Shut up, Peeves," he said, walking back to the common room.


	18. Go Home

"Ron, don't call her loony," Ginny advised her brother severely. "It's not a bad thing you asked, Harry. She's so excited."

The three of them walked through the hall with Neville, discussing the Slug Club and their fellow students. When Snape appeared, walking head-on, with a Slythering girl who had already mastered the human transformations given her hair color. He looked murderous as he gaze met Neville's suddenly distressed face. Ginny felt a twinge of curiousity but decided it would be best not to ask. McGonagall stepped into the hall, as if deliberate to find some, immediately registering she'd found that person.

"Miss Baxter?" The colorful-haired girl stopped. McGonagall ushered her into her classroom. Snape looked a bit agitated, not starting to walk until his colleague dared him not to keep walking. Her door closed behind her.

Britta stood beside Dennis and Colin Creevey, Hannah Abbott, and a handful of other Muggleborns.

"Now, I understand you all recently lost relatives in the attacks on Muggle cities. You will be given the opportunity to leave today to spent time with your families. You do not have any obligation to leave, but know you can. Be on the train within the next hour or go back to class."


	19. Glitter Stickers

Hermione, fuming, sat at the first table inside the Great Hall.

"Good afternoon, Hermione," Luna said in passing, no return in the greeting. She eventually sat down by Cassie Ferrara, a girl who was often confused as being a Weasley. She was making a crown out of bright purple paper for her friend, Gianna, who was sitting across the table. Cassie wiggled her fingers in greeting. Luna was staring wide-eyed at the roll of tape and obnoxiously glittery stickers they had scattered across the table. "What is it that you're making?"

"A crown."

Luna sat, eyes protuberant and following what was happening.

"Just about the sauciest crown I've seen in my life," Gianna declared excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air and then, after noticing stares, straightened her yellow tie nonchalantly. Looking down at the table, she was blushing just slightly.

"It is pretty pert," Cassie nodded, admiring the tape. She generally talked like a thesaurus. "Dashing."

"Hey, Cassie, did the password change?" Justin Finch-Fletchley called out to his fellow Hufflepuff.

"I don't think so."

"Hello," Dylan said, giving S.P.E.W. pamphlets to each of them. "Can I have a sticker?"

From the other side of the Great Hall, Sarah sat, scratching down the last few sentences of her DADA essay. Her bag was in her lap, ready to go. She was only staying for a day. Just enough time to go to the funeral. She folded the parchment to take it to Snape before leaving, treading past Malfoy.

"That's lovely," he said distractedly, questions in his voice, to a ginger girl who was holding a glittering paper headdress that he stood behind.

"YES!" her darker haired friend said, delivering a light biff to the side of the crown before Draco took a seat at the next table over. "Bask in its glory!" she called after him, this time ignoring the looks from her peers.

Britta traipsed in, forgetting what she'd intended to do and sitting down next to Luna as Ron entered the room, walking over to them at a deliberate pace. He hugged Cassie around the shoulders and then sitting down.

"Well that would explain a bit about Hermione."

Ron looked over, seeing Hermione watching them. She dropped her eyes to her book again, setting her jaw into a tight moue.


	20. Santa

The funeral home was humble in comparison to Hogwarts, a few portraits on the walls, silent and unmoving. A large wooden box with her friend, silent and unmoving. Through a tight throat, she sighed, stepping into a room full of mourners. His mother's eyes looked too shiny, his father and sister, Emily, seeming too quiet.

She gathered them into as tight a group hug as she could manage, wetting the shoulder of Jeanne's shirt.

"I'm," Sarah began, her voice cracking.

"I know."

"How's boarding school?" Emily asked, mostly out of curiosity.

"It's-- it's nice, Emily," Sarah said. "Practically like magic."

She stepped just beyond his family to a board, full of pictures of soccer games and Disney land and parties, outlined with a first grade class picture and a recent one of him in his back yard, running across the lawn with his dog, acting zany. Sarah remembered that exact day.

Sarah was holding the rubber chicken, running in circles around the blue pool being followed by a blurry ball of white fluff. Austin chased after him. "Arr," Sarah squealed, throwing the chicken in the opposite direction of Casper's beeline. Swinging around, he grabbed it in his mouth. "Casper!" Austin cried after him, Casper's short tail wagging furiously.

He jumped over the soccer ball on the ground, running after his dog. Sarah went the opposite way, helping corner Casper. Austin pulled the rubber chicken from his mouth before he ran through the space between them. They laughed so hard it stung.

Less than six months after she laughed, she cried so hard it stung. She sat on a chair in the back right corner of the room, behind all of the mourners. Some people were distinctly missing. _What if they were killed too?_ Her thoughts immediately raced to the worst.

She pulled her knees to her chin, burying her face into her arms. She wore the a school sweater with the only black pants she possessed. Sarah didn't do so well with funerals. The already hushed room fell into a state of totally soundlessness spanning a few seconds. The air in the room had changed. Sarah looked up seeing a man in mismatched suit, navy suit jacket and black pinstripe pants, and tacky tie depicting an underweight Santa Claus. His hair was long and black and his skin looked sicklier next to the yellow-gold of the tie. He looked awkwardly around the room until he saw Sarah's bewildered facial expression. He walked rigidly, as though he was able to repel the gazes of the people in the room. He sat in the seat to her left, taking her hand in his.

That's how she knew she would be able to find a way to be okay.


	21. Protuberant Eyes

"Why didn't you go back?"

"I just couldn't, Neville,"Britta quietly, head on her hands. They were sitting on the floor in the corridor. "I expect…" she just shook her head, trying to hold back tears. The building water created the effect of a weak dam, the tears burst through, slowly at first but flowing more freely as nothing held them back.

Neville moved closer to her, putting his arm around her shoulder, leaning his cheek against her head.

Students had been gawking, but not so much as at what they saw next.


	22. Homeless Clown

Snape grabbed Sarah's arm as soon as people began departing. "Wait!" Sarah said, her voice edging near harshness. She weaved though the crowd, practically tackling Austin's grandma into a hug and telling his family that she was leaving.

"Who was that guy?" Emily asked at Sarah's back. She didn't answer, making her way to Snape as quickly as she could through the clusters of people. She popped up behind Snape. "Let's go."

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her along through the entrance hall, attracting as many stares as before. He looked around, trying to find a private place. Without warning, she felt a tug inside her bellybutton and the sensation of being squeezed through a tube.

They were in a dark maze of trees. Sarah felt the de ja vu of her dream. "Se-Severus," she said, starting to feel twinges of trepidation. She squeezed her eyes shut, following her guide through the feeling of tugs on her hands. "Keep your eyes open. I don't want you down in the hospital wing in a matchbox, and even when your eyes are open, the chances are not in your favor."

"Thanks," Sarah replied sardonically, eyes open, realizing they were almost through the doors of Hogwarts. They strolled through the hallway. Snape no longer clutched her wrist, walking by her side. She was following back intending to accompany him to his office. Soon enough, the students leaving dinner were walking contiguously around Snape and Sarah, watching them fixedly with awestruck expressions. Students stopped to ogle them, Snape only then realizing he wore the same mismatched suit and tie he had worn to the funeral. Draco looked a bit repulsed.

Cassie and Ron, upon passing, both turned radiant shades of red from cachinnation.

He had his face set into a hard expression as he continued down the corridor. Britta, looking tired, sat on the floor with Neville Longbottom. She had concealed her mouth with her hand, clearly smiling, and Neville was ducking his head to hide his face. "Five points from Gryffindor," Snape said, scowling specifically at Neville.

Gianna went wide-eyed next to the group of a few others she walked beside.

"I like your tie, Professor," Luna said sincerely. As they passed, Gianna made a comment regarding its stylishness.


	23. Apparation

"Are you certain you can comply to my terms?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

"Let us go then," Dumbledore replied.

And before Harry could say a word, he was pulled into uncomfortable, cramped darkness and fell out of it into a cold, gray place where the only sound was crashing waves.


	24. Invest in a Lock

Meanwhile, Snape lead Sarah back into his private chambers, waving his wand to change back into attire resembling a homeless clown a little less. He set a teapot on the table, painted emerald green and black with a turquoise base. As the tea brewed, Severus sat adjacent from Sarah at the table. Lifting a cup, the teapot poured for him. Handing the cup to Sarah, he held one out for himself.

Snape poured a liquid into her tea as she wasn't looking, a calming draught.

Sarah was spooning sugar into her tea. She put it to her lips, perfectly warm. Everything about her had felt cold but the tea made her calm in an alarmingly thorough sense. She felt peaceful enough to truly breathe for the first time in days.

Sarah smiled, eyes closed with her head resting against the chair. She got up, seeming to waft, rather than walk. Severus accepted her into his arms, hugging her tightly. She kissed his cheek, still smiling and settling placidly into the embrace.

"Severus, do you ever wonder—"

The door burst open, Hermione looked slightly taken aback. Luna instead, remained unchanging. "Hello, Sarah."

Hermione looked a little irritated at Luna for straying from their quest."Professor, McGonagall told us to come get you; there are Death Eaters in the school," she said with urgency.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said stoically. Hermione pulled Luna by the wrist out of the room.

"You are staying here," he directed it at Sarah.

"No, I am going to fight."

He shook his head at her. "You have to wait five minutes," he grudgingly agreed.

"Roger that," she shrugged. Snape leaned in to her facing, pulling away far before she'd have liked. He closed the door on the way out, leaving Sarah to a few moments of thought. Curiously, she opened a cabinet in the corner of the room. It housed the rest of his clothing, each item of clothing a clone of the one before it. _Like a cartoon character_.

She moved aside one cloak, seeing vials full of an opalescent fluid with veins that ran blue. Each was labelled with his name on small squares of parchment, anchored on twine with small pewter beads. Examining the glass, she saw the outlines of people and faces. They looked as though they were memories from a long time ago.

She touched the glass with her fingertip, deciding it was time to go join him. Sarah stood and walked to the opposite side of the room, pulling at the door handle. No result. She started yanking at it, frustrated. "Alohomora!" she yelled at the door, brandishing her wand. "ALOHOMORA!" She pulled again.

"CRAP!" she banged her hand against the door, giving up.


	25. Mannequins

"Girls!" Snape called out. Luna and Hermione turned and looked at him. "Flitwick is stunned in his office."

Both girls ran in the direction of Flitwick's nearby office to help, the door immediately slamming behind them and trapping them inside. Snape moved down the hallway like a dementor seeking a convict, pushing between Amycus and Alecto Carrow to stand beside Draco. Draco was shaking, pointing his wand at an unarmed Dumbledore.

"Severus," he said from the floor of the tower. "Severus," Dumbledore's voice somewhat fearful.

"The boy doesn't seem able," Amycus spat.

"Severus, please…"

With James Potter in mind, he made a face of revulsion and raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" Watching the headmaster fall to the ground, he cried out to Draco to run, and both broke into a run.


	26. Furnunculus

"REDUCTO!" the door exploded into the hall. Sarah ran out, looking for the greatest amount of activity. A bewildered Gryffindor boy stood in pajamas in the hallway.

"Crucio!" a voice cackled. "Aww, poor little Longbottom!" More cackling.

"Locomotor mortis!" Neville cried in return.

"Expelliarmus!" Ginny shouted at a masked Death Eater.

"Avada-" he shouted, his wand flying from his hand.

Sarah ducted around colored lights, each jet reflecting off her eyes. After almost getting hit by Lucius Malfoy, she turned to him in anger. All she wanted was to see her friends safe. "Furnunculus!" his face erupting into boils.

It provided proper distraction from her movements, allowing her emergence from the door. Outside, the battle remained as fierce. "Cruc-" she heard in Harry's voice.

"No unforgivable curses for you, Potter!" Snape growled. Sarah ran past the flames erupting from Hagrid's roof.

"FANG'S INSIDE!" Hagrid roared, entering the door to retrieve his boarhound.

"You havn't the nerve!" Snape sneered at him, still running just behind Draco.

"Fight me, you coward!" Harry howled.

"I'm a coward Potter? Your father would only fight me when it was four to one, who, exactly—"

"Severus!" Sarah interrupted, falling over someone's discarded cloak. She fell, scratching her face on the roots of the tree nearest her.

Snape didn't respond, deflecting his next curse. "Keep your mind closed, Potter!"

"Impedi-"

Sarah watched the scene from the ground, only truly able to see dark forms in the light of the fire. She stood, turning back to Hogwarts. "Aguamenti!" Sarah desperately howled at Hagrid's hut. "Agua—"

She heard Harry screaming in the distance, wondering what had happened but able to only catch some words. _Who is the half-blood prince?_

Harry was by Hagrid's hut, within a fifty foot radius of Sarah. "HAGRID! Hagrid?" Harry cried out.

"He's in the house looking for Fang," Sarah answered uncomfortably, only feeling relief when she saw a large figure eclipse a portion of the flames, dog in tow. Aside from a slightly singed beard, his only detriment being a swelling cut below the eye.

Sarah straightened herself, looking at Harry and Hagrid.

"I s'pose Dumbledore'll be able to fix it…" looking at the burning pile of rubble.

"Hagrid, Snape killed him," Harry replied bluntly, the feeling of it finally crashing over him.

"Wha?"

"Snape killed him!" he howled in rage.

Sarah felt as if she were just struck by lightening, looking at her professor sprawled out on the ground, glasses sitting crookedly on his face. He had looked asleep, but his legs were bent abnormally._ Snape did this. _Words were echoing in her head until everything went black.


	27. Dragon Dung

"—unsure of the effects, as Greyback hadn't been tranformed at the time of the attack," Madame Pomfrey said, waving her wand to recenter the bandage over Flitwick's wound.

Britta sat to the left of Neville's bed with Luna. He'd fallen asleep. Britta had a pink wound running across her cheek and was facing the bed to the left of Neville's. Ron and Hermione stood together, clearly having reconciled, with Lupin around the next bed.

Tonks was standing near the foot of the bed.

"Alright, Harry?" she asked.

"Yeah, how's…" he leaned over Hermione's shoulder, feeling a temporary shock. Madame Pomfrey leaned over Bill's mangled face, dabbing it with a chuck of cotton to absorb the oozing mixture of blood and pus. Gently, she spread an ointment on his face that was a dull green and acridly smelled of dragon dung. "Isn't there a charm that could cure it?"

"None that I know, Potter," Pomfrey replied. "Tried everything I could think of."

"Bill won't be a-a… I mean," Ron glanced at Lupin. "Greyback wasn't transformed when he was bitten…"

"I don't think he will be a full werewolf, Ron," Lupin said. "Though he may gain some characteristics of a werewolf. After all, the wounds are somewhat contaminated."

"Well, Dumbledore should know something about it then? I mean, Bill was fighting that maniac for him, it'd be the lease—" Ron was interupted by Ginny.

Watching Harry's pained expression, she spoke carefully. "Dumbledore's dead, Ron."

Lupin collapsed into a chair, "No." He waited for someone to contradict Ginny, but when no one did, his expression became hidden behind his hands, as though he was covering nakedness. He felt embarassment for the eyes on him, even when they no longer watched him.

"How?" Tonks breathed. Britta put her arm around Luna, who was now quivering.

"Snape killed him," Harry started, beginning to feel frantic. Hermione's gasp was followed by a groan from Ron. Cassie cried out from the bed opposite Bill's. It was likely she had heard the words, but it could also have had something to do with Skele-Gro working its way through her gelatinous leg.

"No way," Dean said under his breath, barely heard over Madame Pomfrey's sobs. McGonagall patted her shoulder.

"Listen," Ginny said.

The room fell silent, allowing Fawk's lament in various tones of grief to echo through the castle. Ginny was tearing because of the song of her own grief, the song of the grief of those surrounding her. McGonagall broke the entrancement by announcing that Molly and Arthur were coming.

"What happened, Harry? Hagrid say you were with Albus when—when it happened. He was a bit to distraught to explain Snape's involvement…"

"He killed him," Harry choked. "He killed Dumbledore." Thinking quickly, Madame Pomfrey conjured a chair, McGonagall falling into it, faintly repeating Harry's words. "Professor, he—Dumbledore—was weak. He knew that. But… I couldn't do anything. He immobilized me and… Malfoy came in the door and disarmed him. And Snape…. I couldn't do anything," he shook his head, trying to regain his composure. Ginny pulled him into a hug.

"I always thought Dumbledore knew more about Snape than we did," Tonks whispered.

"We also knew he was an Occlumens," Lupin's voice grim and severe.

"He always implied there was an ironclad reason for his faith in Snape," McGonagall said. "Even with his sketchy past, Albus wouldn't allow anyone to speak against him."

"I'd love to know what had him so convinced," Ron said, eyebrows raised.

"This is my fault," McGonagall said after a pause. "If I didn't tell someone to get him, he may not have had the chance to join them."

"We all wanted help, Minerva," Lupin assured her. "It is no more your fault than anyone else's."

"Was he fightig with them from the beginning?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. There was so much confusion," McGonagall wiped her eyes. "We were patrolling the corridors on Albus's orders. Remus, Bill, and Nymphadora—" Tonks didn't correct her. "—joined us. We though we had every secret passage, every entrance. I don't know how they could've possibly found a way in."

"Vanishing cabinet. In the Room of Requirement," Harry cut in.

"We tried catching him," Britta said. "Ron used the Maurauder's Map. We spent hours waiting. He found a way by us. But he used Peruvian darkness powder."

"We couldn't see anything. And using curses would've probably gotten one of us killed," Neville said, now awake.

"But luckily we found them," Lupin said. "Malfoy was out of the powder so a fight started. Death Eaters scattered everywhere."

"Where were you then, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I had to go get Snape, with Luna. He was with her," she gestured at the unconscious Slytherin girl on the last bed. "He ran out, I think he locked her in. And then he followed us and told us Flitwick had been stupefied in his office; we went in to help… Harry, I was so stupid," she looked apologetically at him, starting to cry.

"Girls, he'd have killed you girls if you hadn't listened and just gotten out of the way," Tonks pointed out.

"So then he came upstairs," Harry finished.

"Right," Tonks said. "And we were losing."

"A Death Eater blocked the stairwell," Britta said. "And he cursed Neville. We didn't know what happened. Half the ceiling collapsed."

"Whoever was still standing moved," Neville shrugged. "Snape came out with Malfoy and they just ran."

"Snape shouted something," Ron noted.

"He said 'It's over. We've done what we were intended to,'" Harry said, dazed.

Molly practically flew into the wing, several yards ahead of Arthur. "Oh, Bill," she cried. "Bill…"

"I'm sorry—" McGonagall said. "Molly, Arthur."

Molly kissed the top of her son's head, Arthur looking uneasy. "If Greyback attacked him… He hadn't transformed? What will happen to Bill, exactly?"

"We aren't certain," Madam Pomfrey made a move to apply more ointment to Bill, Mrs. Weasley taking it from her to do it herself.

"Minerva, is it true? About Dumbledore?" Arthur inquired.

She nodded.

Mrs. Weasley was still focused on her eldest son. "So handsome, how he looks now… well, it's not important, but he was going to be married…."

"What do you mean, 'e was going to be married?" Fleur spoke in an offended tone. "'E will! Our love eez stronger zan a werewolf, Mrs. Weasley! Per'aps you 'oped I would not weesh to marry him? All these scars show is how corageous my 'usband ees!"

"I am sorry, Fleur, I just worried—"

Ron looked bewildered as both women began hugging and crying.

"Oh, you see!" Tonks said. "He was bitten and she still wants to marry him, Remus!"

"Bill won't be a full werewolf! The situations are totally—"

"But I don't care," Tonks took his hand. "I don't care," she said more gently.

"This isn't the time to discuss it. Dumbledore is dead," Lupin objected.

"Dumbledore'd have been happier to know of more love in the world," Luna whispered, smiling encouragingly.


	28. Buttmunch

Beating hearts rang out in her ears. Voices next to her indicated some sort of game going on near her. Sarah's eyes fluttered open, seeing a ginger girl laying on the bed, playing cards with Ron Weasley and a brunette.

"…buttmunch," the girl with the red hair murmured, seeming to direct it at her. "Gianna, you were right there, too."

"I know, but it could've been… not what it looked like. Even if it is uber sketchy."

"I win," Ron said smugly. Card games like Speed seemed to be the only games he didn't pitifully lose.

"Daahh," Gianna cried in exasperation.

Sarah thought about Austin again, feeling a pain in her stomach. She watched Madame Pomfrey drift around the bed some someone with a horribly torn face and her stomach flipped. Red hair said he was a Weasley. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. She suddenly felt a wave of nausea. The smell of the green cream being applied to his wounds didn't help.

Madame Pomfrey moved over to Cassie, taking her by the leg and moving it around, examining how well the damage was repaired. She nodded, making clucking noises now and then.

"You're free to go," Pomfrey said nodding. "Dumble—the funeral is later this evening, if you didn't hear."

"Let's go, Chachi," Gianna said, dropping the pack of cards into her pocket. Cassie felt really awkward walking on new bones.

"Ah! Miss Baxter! Good to see you conscious," she nodded stiffly. "Feeling better."

"Not really."

"Well, McGonagall wants to see you in Dumble- _her_ office."

"Uh, okay," she said, getting up.


	29. Barriers

In the crowd of hundreds of people, few people stood with marble faces chiseled into grimaces. Hagrid bawled freely into the shoulder of Madame Maxime's dress, her arm tucked around his side. Bill, bearing some resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody, had been allowed outside to attend. He sat beside a teary Fleur with Molly and Arthur. Britta sat beside Luna and Neville. They all looked straight ahead, Luna crying. Tonks's hair was vivid once more, her hand interlocked with Lupin's. Two members of the Weird Sisters sat in the back, relatively near Fred and George. Madam Malkin, Tom from the Leaky Cauldron, Arabella Figg, and castle ghosts. Peeves even sat, though barely visible, somberly. The crowd was dense and vast. Even Professor Sprout didn't wear her patched hat, sitting beside Gianna and Filch, who wore a primeval suit that was detectably decaying. Behind them, Grawp sat on the ground wearing an impossibly large suit with his head bowed.

Fawks's song rang out across the grounds, this time joined by Merpeople who floated just below the surface.

Rita Skeeter sat, her KwikNotes Quill scribbling away beside her, without genuine grief.

A purple-shrouded figure was being carried now, causing Sarah to look away before making an audible expression of her sadness. The words flowing from the wizard heading the funeral were lost on her ears. Movies played inside her head of Potions class, of watching Austin play soccer, of Dumbledore giving Cedric Diggory's eulogy, of the Weasleys' house.

Dumbledore's body was lifted by an invisible source, flames paler than Ron's skin had become encasing it, forming a tomb.

The Merpeople stopped singing and lifted their faces above to surface to see it more directly and then diving out of sight. Centaurs shot arrows upward in respect, causing a slight commotion to wave through the crowd even though the arrows landed far off into the forest. After paying this final respect, they retreated into the trees.

Luna stood first, pointing her arm toward the sky and sending off brilliant sparks. Neville and Britta stood next and did the same. Following suite, Hermione and the Weasleys joined. Soon, all members of the crowd pointed into the sky, creating a brilliant spectrum.


	30. Severus

Sometimes, he tried deluding himself into thinking it would be simple.

But then, when teachers date students, and underage ones at that, things do tend to get complicated.

He thought of her coming to visit him at Spinner's End as he ran with Draco. She'd taken one step, running her hand over the spines of the books. She'd made him laugh while they sat outside in the sun like he hadn't laughed since he was a boy. Like he hadn't laughed since before he offended Lily.


	31. Catalyst

"Do you care to tell me now?" McGonagall asked, her face earnest.

"All that happened was that we had tea." The close proximity between her and Severus didn't seem to be something the Headmistress needed to know about. Sarah was actually so infatuated with him, she occasionally worried she had been drinking a love potion all that time. Even though she could control herself in a way that Goyle could not when he had accidentally taken some, the thoughts still plagued her mind. Apathy. It wasn't something she was normally good at faking; her emotions were weather. They would either drench and electrocute people who happened across them, but to also dry the faces of those around her with warmth. "I had no idea, Professor."

"Well, I suppose I'll presently have to trust you," McGonagall said. "You are a mess. Dumbledore's funeral is starting in about a quarter of an hour. You should go change." Sarah nodded, turning to leave. Down the stairs, she finally let herself mourn, tears spilling onto the floor but otherwise she was staid. Snape called her capricious sometimes, but for someone so consistant, anything could throw him off balance. Sleeping for almost 18 hours left her feeling detached, as if still dreaming. Her eyes seemed to roll too quickly in her head, seeing blurs where paintings should be. They talked to her in unsynchronized voices.

She just ignored them, muttering the password to the common room and entered the dormitory despondantly. She just wanted to sleep again but felt obligated to go to the funeral. Raking the comb through her hair and sweeping it off her face, she examined the marks. They were nothing like those of Bill Weasley's so she had no complaints. A small crust of blood remained along the scratches. Her left arm was bruised. _Who did I fight? What happened to me? _How did she remember losing Snape but not fighting? Or at least falling?

Using a damp cloth, she cleaned her cheek with unsteady fingers. Sarah moved her hands over the wounds. She pulled her robe back up over her shoulders, fastening it with achy fingers.

The day wouldn't end soon enough; she couldn't sleep soon enough. It was nearly dusk. It felt like a coming dawn after days without sleep. Exiting the castle to the side of the Great Lake, she heard painfully pretty voices and a bird's song.

A great marble coffin stood before the crowd of people.

Aurors, teachers, first to seventh years, the Order of the Pheonix, Ministry officials, centaurs, house elves, and foreign wizards merged into single group. _Our hearts beat as one._ Dumbledore's words made a good degree more sense to Sarah recently.

_Beat as one_. Lingering on one memory in particular of last year, she lost herself inside a smile. Beat as one. Those exact words described the first time he leaned into her. It was in his classroom. She'd stayed after class to ask a question about the material they learned that day. She didn't really need to know, she just felt it was necessary to remain in the room. She could feel his heartbeat from the otherside of the room. She knew they were harmonized, like in a bad romantic musical.

She just stared into onyx, mid-question, her speech slowing into a stop. He didn't need to lean in, he just seemed to be there.

That was the catalyst.


	32. Awake

She was the first person he saw when he woke. She wasn't looking but instead talked to Madame Pomfrey, a moment passing before he squeeze her hand, sitting up. "It everyone okay?"

"No," Britta rasped. "Dumbledore is gone."

Madame Pomfrey looked even more pained than Neville to hear it. It seemed to her it was over and over, like she was trapped in the cycle of a broken timeturner.


	33. Respects

In the crowd of hundreds of people, few people stood with marble faces chiseled into grimaces. Hagrid bawled freely into the shoulder of Madame Maxime's dress, her arm tucked around his side. Bill, bearing some resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody, had been allowed outside to attend. He sat beside a teary Fleur with Molly and Arthur. Britta sat beside Luna and Neville. They all looked straight ahead, Luna crying. Tonks's hair was vivid once more, her hand interlocked with Lupin's. Two members of the Weird Sisters sat in the back, relatively near Fred and George. Madam Malkin, Tom from the Leaky Cauldron, Arabella Figg, and castle ghosts. Peeves even sat, though barely visible, somberly. The crowd was dense and vast. Even Professor Sprout didn't wear her patched hat, sitting beside Gianna and Filch, who wore a primeval suit that was detectably decaying. Behind them, Grawp sat on the ground wearing an impossibly large suit with his head bowed.

Fawks's song rang out across the grounds, this time joined by Merpeople who floated just below the surface.

Rita Skeeter sat, her KwikNotes Quill scribbling away beside her, without genuine grief.

A purple-shrouded figure was being carried now, causing Sarah to look away before making an audible expression of her sadness. The words flowing from the wizard heading the funeral were lost on her ears. Movies played inside her head of Potions class, of watching Austin play soccer, of Dumbledore giving Cedric Diggory's eulogy, of the Weasleys' house.

Dumbledore's body was lifted by an invisible source, flames paler than Ron's skin had become encasing it, forming a tomb.

The Merpeople stopped singing and lifted their faces above to surface to see it more directly and then diving out of sight. Centaurs shot arrows upward in respect, causing a slight commotion to wave through the crowd even though the arrows landed far off into the forest. After paying this final respect, they retreated into the trees.

Luna stood first, pointing her arm toward the sky and sending off luminescent sparks. Neville and Britta stood next and did the same. Following suite, Hermione and the Weasleys joined. Soon, all members of the crowd pointed into the sky, creating a brilliant spectrum.


	34. Logic Simply Doesn't Apply

As the crowd cleared, Sarah was again washed over by abandonment. A Hufflepuff named Cassidy pulled Gianna and Cassie toward the castle laughing. The mood has lightened some, but not enough to deplete the chamber of lead seemed to be slowly choking her heart and lungs. The only others remaining outside were Harry and Ginny, and they, too, were heading toward the Great Hall for a late dinner. She stared upward at the lopsided moon, sitting in the grass. Her wand remained in her hand, cherry wood with golden veins running horizontally through the center. The base contained runes that explained the history of the unicorn hair found inside.

Logically speaking, she'd known that something like this was more than likely to happen.

Logically speaking, even though she didn't know, she could've used any degree of basic logic and figured it probably wouldn't be forever.

Logically speaking, she felt like she deserved being called a dunderhead the first time she tried making a potion.

But if she was speaking logically, why did she get involved with him in the first place? This one argument was the one that cancelled all of the others. What does someone not sorted into Ravenclaw need of logic anyway? She had craftiness to pull her through. After all, Slytherins were known to get what they want.

Smiling up at the moon, she knew.


End file.
